To Be With Her
by mellythenerd
Summary: What would happen if Cato didn't try to kill Peeta? What if there was more to Cato than wanting to bring pride to his district?


I hold my arrow poised in the bow, ready to shoot as Cato captivates Peeta in his arm. Peeta's face is turning white; he's losing air. The only sound I hear is the growls and breathing of several mutts below the Cornucopia. I can't shoot Cato; he'll bring Peeta down with him. All I can do is stand here and look him in the eye, hoping for a miracle. The crazed expression on his face is getting more hysterical by the second.

"Just shoot me," he says, his voice quivering. "Please."

I'm taken back by his words. Cato, the vicious and murderous Career from District 2, wants to die?

"I thought you wanted to win," I shake my head.

"It's over. I already lost. Might as well kill me now, get it over with," he tells me, tears running down his blood-smeared cheeks. "You can win. Just do it."

"I… why did you already lose?" I ask, letting my guard down.

"Clove… She's gone. I let her die. I can't live with that."

The realization hits me, and my heart stops. "…You loved her."

He exhales in short and choppy breaths, "I've know her forever." Sobs escape him. Peeta stops struggling and I pull my bow to my side. "What am I supposed to do? Go back to District 2? Get praised for killing people? Be rewarded and love for letting Clove die?"

Silence.

"I'd rather die," he cries out.

"Cato-" I start.

"Just shoot!" he screams at me.

"If I do, I'm letting Peeta die. It's the same, Cato. The same as you and Clove. I can't kill Peeta," I say gently.

He looks at Peeta, no longer resisting in his arms. Slowly, he begins to loosen his grip. Peeta gasps for air and stumbles over to me. He wraps his arms around me, and I do the same. Then we turn our attention to Cato, who is looking at his hands in pure terror, as if they were foreign.

"When did I become this?" he whispers to himself. "I'm a monster. I was just about to…"

"It's fine," I assure him, but my voice cracks. I don't know how to feel. Before this, I expected the only thing Cato wanted was to bring pride to his district, to win and go home and live the rest of his life pleased with himself. But now, it's different. That was only part of it. He knew, deep down, that when he started the Games, he would have to protect her to help her win. Then the rules changed. They could have won together.

"There!" he yells in frustration. "I let him go. Now you can both win, go home, love each other. All you have to do is kill me.

I position my bow and arrow, and he exposes his chest to me as he holds his arms out. His head is relaxed back, waiting for the arrow to dig itself into his chest, to hear the cannon boom. But I stop myself and put the arrow down.

"Katniss… go on. Shoot him," Peeta coaxes me. Cato's teary eyes stare at me, pleading to end his life.

"No," I say defiantly.

"Why not?" says Cato.

"You're a person. A person with feelings and a heart. I'm not going to kill you," I explain.

"Katniss, he's in pain being alive. It's like killing a dog that's been shot in the leg. Take him out of his misery," Peeta demands me. But I can't be wavered.

"No! He doesn't deserve to die!" I shout in his face.

"Yes I do!" Cato weeps. "I killed innocent kids. I was too slow to save Clove. It's my fault she's dead!"

"You were raised to kill! And it's not your fault that she's gone. You did the best you could. I won't do it, I won't kill you!" I exclaim.

"Then I'll do it," Peeta decides as he reaches for my bow.

"No!" I yank it back. "You'll be the one getting shot if you try to take it again."

"What's gotten into you? He's not our friend. He tried to kill us!" Peeta reminds me.

"He was only trying to help Clove get out alive!"

"Fine," Cato interrupts our bickering. "If you won't kill me, I'll do it myself." Then, before I can stop him, he jumps off the Cornucopia.

"Cato!" I cry out involuntarily. Peeta and I both rush to the edge where he jumped. The mutts aren't moving, and neither is Cato.

"What the hell?" he says. "Eat me you dumb shits!"

"They won't hurt him," I conclude. "The Gamemakers stopped them. They want one of us to do it."

"Cato," calls Peeta, loud enough for our suicidal opponent to hear. "Come on. They won't kill you. The Gamemakers shut them down."

Cato climbs back up and collapses onto the top, practically pulling out his hair. Then he begins sobbing more than he was before. He sounds broken. "I just want to be with her."

I make my way over and sit beside him. He hides his face in his arms. Gently, I place my hand on his shoulder. "She would have wanted you to win."

"I can't kill anyone else except myself."

Moments pass before I say something in response. "I'm going to get us all out of here."

"How? Only two can come out alive," Peeta asks.

I take the nightlock that I had acquired earlier out of my jacket. "You think they'll let all three of us commit suicide?" I say, basically challenging the Gamemakers as they capture every moment of the scene.

"Katniss, what are you doing?" Peeta replies, holding his hand over mine.

"Just take it," I demand, dropping a few of the berries into his hand. He looks at me quizzically. I ignore him. "Cato, you have to take some too," I whisper into his ear.

"Okay," he agrees, almost eagerly. Then he reaches for the nightlock in my hands.

"Hey," I pull back. "You have to promise not to eat them until I say so. Alright?"

"But why?" he asks curiously, almost like that of a little kid.

"Just trust me." Then I place a few in his palm and hold his wrist, just in case.

"On my count," I say to both of them.

"One… Two…. Three."

We raise our hands to our mouths when an announcement is made. I yank Cato's hand away from his mouth before he eats the nightlock.

"Stop!" I hear booming from above. It's the voice of Claudius. "Ladies and gentleman, our… _three_ victors of the 74th annual Hunger Games."

All of us drop the berries in unison. Peeta throws himself into my arms. We hug for several moments before I pull back just to kiss him and run my fingers through his hair. Then I turn back to Cato. He's crying more, and I slowly wrap my arms around him. I feel his arms tentatively find their way to my back. "It's okay," I tell him. "It's over now. You're going home. You're going to be okay."

He nuzzles his face into the crook of my shoulder and sobs, "Clove." I continue comforting him until a hovercraft comes down and retrieves us and gets us out of the arena.

Cato, Peeta and I are all alive. The three teenagers who defied the Capitol. The three winners of The Hunger Games.


End file.
